The Strange and yet Satisfying Demise of Lacey Evers
High school can be a fun place sometimes. It isn’t always the factory of sadness and enslaved drones that some people claim it is. At least, that’s what I always thought. Sometimes, there’s the occasional scuffle that gets caught on tape and put on YouTube for the whole world to see, other times, you’ll get to witness someone skateboarding in the halls. And if you’re extra lucky, when the teacher is absent or is on a coffee break, you can see what they’re really up to when he’s not handing out worksheets or braying on a lecture on this or that. But until yesterday, I never thought in a million years that school would be the place where I saw the most insane and downright bizarre thing I had ever seen. “Stephen, did you finish your homework yet?” “Working on it, Mom!” This was to be expected. After all, he had sort of slacked on the homework for most of the day, not for a lack of trying, mind you, but more because he had struggled on how to go about it. At last though, it seemed that Stephen finally obtained the perfect formula for success. Let us now listen in and read what Stephen had wrote for his teacher shall we? I go to a school called Fruitland High. You’ve probably heard of it at some point, it’s a pretty good school all things considered and I’ve had a decent four or so years there. But all things have to end at some point, and college isn’t going to be waiting for no one. So when you gave me the assignment to write an essay on the one day of high school that I’d never forget, I thought it would be something mundane like a field trip to the zoo or an amusement park or something, maybe it was during prom where I got my first kiss, maybe I’d just cop out and say everyday was a day I’d never forget. At least, that’s what I would’ve done...if it wasn’t for what happened yesterday to Lacey Evers. I’m sure you know who Lacey Evers was, you taught her for a time. I knew her as well, we were in the same class with you. The entire school knew who she was. She was practically the queen of Fruitland for a time. The other girls loved her, some even worshiped her so much to the point that they thought that she was the literal Second Coming of Christ. And don’t get me started on the guys: legend has it she’s rejected more boys than she’s dated, and the ones she DID date she either did because of self-gratitude or to eventually get dumped for someone higher up the food chain. And in all honesty, I couldn’t blame them for trying. Lacey was probably everyone’s dream girl in Fruitland. Her wavy auburn hair that flowed halfway to her waist, one side covering half her face to give her that mysterious look. Not like it mattered as her face boasted of the perfect complexion and was among the most fair, a clear result of many years of good care and skin ointment, the way she smiled she could hypnotize any man into a hopeless trance. And then there was her body, the anatomy as you put it. No doubt about it, she was a knockout and then some. One of the guys said the curves on her made her seem like the second coming of Pamela Anderson. Another suggested that she could make just about anything look wearable, and most of the time they were right. But what really turned heads around was the way she walked and moved around. Oh Lord, every time she stepped into the scene or walked into the school halls, all of us would stand there gazing upon her like she was some sort of majestic being from another dimension. She usually walked around in a slow, almost sultry like manner. I never really knew why she walked like that instead of walking normally like the rest of us, maybe it would’ve made sense if she was trying to flirt with someone like one of the quarterbacks on the football team or something like that, but no. She always did that. She even sat down in that same manner too, even darting her aquamarine eyes at one of the boys and giving a small, almost taunting like smirk that read ‘Yeah, I know you want me. But it’s not gonna happen’. That guy usually wound up getting flustered the rest of the day, trying and failing miserably to dissect what that was all about. To make matters short, she was hot and she was popular. But there’s another thing some people called her. And I apologize for having to say it, but given...everything that’s happened in the past and especially the last few weeks, I feel it is only fitting to call her what she truly is. A bitch. It’s not very flattering to call any woman that name, I should know. My mom raised me and told me to always treat women with respect. But in the case of Lacey, there was no hiding it. She was about as stuck-up as you could get without rearranging her neck chord to always look up at the ceiling or in the sky. I’ve seen and heard of the horror stories, and it’s likely you have too: She’d usually try and seduce someone’s man away from them, sometimes succeeding in the process. There was also that one time she published someone’s diary for the entire Internet, and that was about as messy as you could get without calling a janitor. And that isn’t delving into the usual mean girl antics, calling others names, making fun of them online and basically making your life a living hell. And if you didn’t get on her bad side somehow, you likely found a way to do it by getting on the nerves of her best friends Vivienne; a former resident of Paris, and Sherri, the only female on the school's wrestling team. Together, the two made the perfect combination of sly and cunning along with rough and tough. So long as Lacey was their best friend, they were also the ones who did her dirty work. Didn’t help that her father held ownership stake of Fruitland, so whatever the principal could do to punish her or them was limited at best. It’s sort of the reason why I never accepted her advances (yes, comic reading, anime watching Stephen has been flirted with by her before). Another reason for this is that she never really was my type to begin with. If I ever wanted a girlfriend, which I do and have, I'd want her to be sort of like me. Socially awkward, able to stand up for herself, being fun to be around and always looking on the more optimistic side of things. Still, she plays an important role in this, and you’ll find out why later. Now, how did this happen?: Well it all started three or so weeks ago, some of my friends (Chester and Sam) and I were walking across the hallway, heading into our first class of the day when we saw Lacey with her girl group, cute miniskirt and all. It seemed pretty normal at first, she usually made the time to chat with her posse of worshipers. But then I took a closer look and noticed that something about Lacey seemed...different. I couldn’t tell if it was because she was still trying to wake up or if she was making fun over herself for being who she is, or if she was getting over a lackluster date, in any shape she just seemed off it. I could even tell something was up from some of her mannerisms, her usually tempting posture was tinted with hints of caution and unsteadiness. Her facial expressions, less sultry and more of that of someone who was straining to keep their cool. The bell rang, limiting my curiosity after only a few moments as my friends insisted on going to our first period class. But as we left, I took a brief glance of Lacey walking off to her class as well. That too seemed a bit odd as well, her movements not as alluring as they always were, that seductive strut seemingly giving way to more of a teetering, disoriented sway. It was bizarre as anything I’d ever seen and was the talk of school for most of the day thereafter. Hours passed, classes came and went, and eventually, it was time for your class, Biology. Everyone sat in that room of yours, filled with cartoony pictures based around science and geography on the walls and worksheets on your desk. Everyone that is, except for Lacey. Despite the way she walked, you would be surprised to know that she was on time for class more often than not. However, today she was sort of cutting it close. She eventually entered the scene with great fanfare, open the door with her left arm and seemingly returning to her normal form in most ways. Her walk still seemed a bit wobbly in places, but the smirk she had earlier had made a comeback. As I expected, she may of just had a rough night… Or that’s what I would’ve said had I not looked into her eyes and her skin. It may had not meant much then, but perhaps the sign of bloodshot eyes was a bit of a concern to some. What really got me was her skin color, a solid tan overall, seemingly a little brighter, a little whiter than it had always been. Like with earlier, she had obtained some bizarre methods, like blowing cold air onto her hands after only writing a few sentences or repeatedly saying the word ‘hatch’ in an irritated voice or randomly chuckling for no apparent reason. It was one of the strangest sights we had ever seen, and even as the bell rang to dismiss us, I still remained having no recollection of what was happening. The next day came, a Thursday I think it was, and I was hanging out with my girlfriend, Valerie (told you she would play a part in this) when we both saw Lacey with two of her girl posse friends (In this case, Vivienne and Sherri). We took a close look at Lacey and saw what could be described as alarming. There she was, Miss Popularity herself, her arms being held out in a pseudo posh fashion and her friends holding onto both her hands (wearing matching gloves) for added support (Vivienne for the left hand and Sherri for the right). And there was a reason for that, her motor capability had seemingly defunctioned overnight and whatever sashay she had was more of a disoriented stumble. And yet, mysteriously enough, her skin was back to it’s normal color and her face didn’t show of that of someone who had been intoxicated. Like a dart finding the board, Lacey’s eyes spotted me and Valerie and she commanded over to Vivienne and Sherri to let go of her. And like a leaning tower, she plopped her hand onto one of the lockers and gave a seemingly flawless smirk. Despite our confusion, Valerie offered to be the first to greet Lacey. This was when things got really weird. From there, Lacey spoke in an airy, breathless tone about a party she had last night with (and I’m quoting here): "a blackened peapod, candles to steer the ship and even a waterless well," all while swaying and seemingly trying to bust out of the tank top she was wearing. Then came the million dollar question, was she alright? Lacey gave a big, almost smug like smile on her face as she exited her slump of the locker and stumbled backward a little, declaring that she was more than fine, she was hot as hell (I imagine a few boys and even a few girls bled through the nose as she posed). Valerie expressed relief at this and assumed that she was under the influence because of how she was moving around. Bad idea, as Lacey swung up, over and onto her shoulders and told Valerie that she only drank non-alcoholic champagne. She then began to ramble on and on in what seemed like a whispery tone in words that seemed to be in gibberish, phrases I don’t think even an author could write in any language. Not even if they had a degree in translation. So, in a fit of puzzlement and having seen Valerie’s eyes sensing a reason to be creeped out, I stealthily moved out of the scene and tried to find a way to bring this unusual discussion to a quick end. There I saw Lacey’s back end, she seemed to had chosen booty shorts today. You know, the ones where they show off a bit of your...well, you know. Now, I’m a simple man with simple pleasures, I don’t just go around smacking girls’ ends. It’s probably the most objectifying thing you can possibly do to a woman. But realizing the need to put this endeavor to a rest and let Valerie go free, I had to make this sexual sacrifice. So I chose a cheek for my hand, closed my eyes, turned my head back and pulled the trigger. It wasn’t a big slap, just a minor tapping, but almost as if she had second reflexes, she stopped what she was doing and popped her eyes up, moving her entire figure into a straight line. At this point I had elected to hide behind my girlfriend in the hopes that Lacey didn’t decide to slap me halfway across the school hall for intentional sexual harassment. Then again, Lacey tended to sleep around with men for a living anyway, so there was hope that I would live to see another day. We waited to see if Lacey’s expression or movement was going to change in some fashion. The very next thing we heard was a short, slightly whiny, almost succulent sounding pronunciation of the letter "o", and we saw that the smile she had earlier was given away to a pained look of joyful ecstasy. As the shouting continued to grow louder, it soon became clear what was happening: she was having an orgasm in front of the entire school. With a crowd shaping up around her, Valerie and I opted to flee the scene and with luck not get suspended for sexual harassment. We would not see her for the rest of the day. Or the day after that for that matter. Or throughout the weekend. Even her social media pages had gone dim. Almost like she had dropped away from our planet to never see us again. On Monday, as I got off the bus, I was greeted by the worried whimperings of Chester and Sam, begging me not to go inside Fruitland High. As it turned out, the news had broken out that Lacey Evers was sent to the hospital after passing out on Saturday, rumor had it that she had been tried for a disease long thought to be a urban myth. That explained why she was acting weird the last few days or so, not sure how’d they would find a cure for it but knowing Lacey, there was a chance. But then Sam told me that there was no cure for it and that Lacey’s future would involve her slowly losing her body function and eventually getting a ‘final moment of celebration for the life that was’ and being ‘sacrificed forever more, no matter the cause’. I excused that as them both hearing the school gossip and taking it literally. Yes, it was tragic to hear what happened to Lacey… But what did this have to do with Chester and Sam not wanting me inside my own school? Well, I got a pretty straightforward answer. As Chester opened the door, I saw and heard with my own eyes thousands upon thousands of students, male or female, all races and colors, any shape or size, bawling their eyes out in an almost cult-like mourning ritual. For a moment, I thought I had been transferred to North Korea and their leader had passed away or something. Even some of the teachers were pretty broken up about it! One of them even openly admitted while wallowing in his sorrow that he would have been honored to have had an affair with her (Cause that would have totally not gotten him fired and arrested for pedophilia now wouldn’t it?). You were one of those who moved on from it, even giving a lecture to everyone in our class about how we needed to move forward and come together stronger than we were before. When I got home, I decided to post a tribute of her on my Twitter page. It wasn’t extravagant or anything grand, just a simple posting of me sending my condolences to her and her family and friends and figured that would be the end of it. And then things began to get even weirder. The next day, while I was in the hallways trying to figure out which numbers would unlock the door so I could get my backpack, I heard someone scoffing next to me. Great, just great. Try to interrupt me in the middle of a something I need to do. I cocked my head over to see who was in a bad mood this morning and saw that it was… Lacey Evers? I stood there, shocked into a stammer. How was this possible? She was sentenced to die because of an illness that had no cure, but here she was as normal as ever! It was then I began to wonder...was all of this a lie? Had Lacey deceived the school public to believe that she had but as few days left to live? That thought only lasted for a few seconds; no way would Lacey be that cruel. I decided then to interact with her to see how she was feeling, asking her how she was and how her day had been going. The only response I got? Air. Bell rings and I decide to shrug it off, assuming she was still recovering from a part of the illness. And all was fine and dandy until I looked to my right and saw… Another Lacey? Now, I had to take a time out. Why were there two Laceys all of a sudden? I stopped dead in my tracks and watched as the two Laceys stared at each other, growing an almost friendly grin as they complimented how they dressed and did their makeup. I tried to get back in the conversation by questioning what was going on when both slapped the center of my face with hands, telling me to back off. And me, being far from a physical specimen, I went down like a sagging accordion and looked on as the two Laceys returning to their admiration of each other and pranced off to class, holding hands as they did. All the while, I was asking myself how, why and what was happening? I got up to class eventually, but the carnival of confusion continued to reign as I saw the same two Laceys now joined with their (I guess) girls Vivienne and Sherri… And two more Laceys. And they were all engaged in a circle in the classroom, trapping Vivienne and Sherri in the middle and their hands and bodies tied up in two chairs and some ropes. For whatever reason, they were engaged in a bizarre ritual that involved them promiscuously moving around in a circle, sexually teasing the two with poses of their bodies as they danced gracefully. Needless to say, Vivienne and Sherri were terrified. Aroused, but terrified nonetheless. This was polarizing the class, while some of the men did find this to be a dream come true and maybe even the perfect ‘farewell gift’ to Lacey Evers, a good majority of others were scattered all across the room asking themselves in silent details what in the world was happening. Thankfully, I saw Valerie and ran over to her to get a full picture of the...whatever it was. Valerie told me that this had been going on for a few minutes now and that someone (like you) tried to prevent this from happening but had gotten trapped inside a locker. Lacey’s locker. Sneaking our way out of the ritual/cult of Lacey clones, we ran over to the real Lacey’s locker all decorated with flowers, letters and even a reef over where a picture of her taking a selfie and using duck lips was. We heard you crying for help and were relieved to hear that we were able to come and get you out of there. As I held the locker, Valerie tried to come up with Lacey’s usual locker code which held little success twice. Then we gave it a little thought, Lacey was well-known for many things. Her birthday, her zip code, her millions upon millions of selfies, what else was there? And then it dawned on her. What above other things did she pride on being regarding her looks? Always being 100. That did the trick and you came tumbling out, gasping for air and shaking our hands in gratitude. The three of us then ran back into your classroom and to your wandering eyes, you saw an entire group of zombies. Zombies that groaned, moaned, almost always walked like they were stoned and wanted to devour us for our brains. There were more things we could add to that list… They were all skirt-wearing, girl-gossiping, body-flaunting, makeup-tipping, lady-dissing, selfie-taking copies with auburn hair and C-cupped chests of only one person: Lacey Evers. And when they all saw the three of us looking at them with looks of disbelief in our eyes, they all started to walk in sync in that same slow, seducing walk Lacey always walked. As they continued to get closer, they all started to branch out their fingers and flesh out their knife-sharp fingernails, looking ready to stab all those who dared come across them. But before one of them could even think of giving us a swipe, we ran out and closed the door. I remember demanding an explanation for all of this and why this had caused such a conundrum, you would then explain to us that the disease Lacey had one notable side effect, saying that if anyone was caught touching her or the other way around, they would then turn into Lacey herself and contain a piece of her spirit. This would continue until the entire world had been consumed, essentially dooming Earth and mankind as a whole. The only way to stop this, you claimed, was to get the person who had the terminal disease without getting infected ourselves and have that person ‘take care of the rest’. Such a task would not be easy and had to be done before she had passed away. If she did, the infection would become eternal. So we came up with a plan, I would sneak into Lacey’s house early tomorrow morning and get her over to Fruitland High by whatever means necessary. Valerie and you would stay behind and fight off the Laceys. As we left earlier, Valerie gave me a glaze. A worried one at that, saying that you didn’t want to see me die and asked if she could come too. I thanked her for the offer, but then told her that I had to do this myself and promised that I would be fine. One kiss later and we went our separate ways, wondering if we’d even see each other again. At 7:00 AM, I snuck out of my room and took a peak at the kitchen and the dining table to see my mom thankfully still the same person she had always been. But like Valerie, they were worried. Only more less for my safety and more on the safety of the house in general. And so I made the fatal mistake of staying in one place too long for someone to notice my existence. In this case, it was my mom who saw my eyes. In stilted tones, she told me that school had been cancelled indefinitely until the ‘Lacey situation’ had been fixed, and that none wishing not to be infected had to stay indoors and lock the main doors to the house. Wonderful. Breakfast was eaten, teeth were brushed, pajamas were traded away for some clothes, and I was forced to find a way out of the house that wasn’t a door. After texting Valerie about the change of plans, I took a glance at the window in my bedroom and considered using it as an escape route when I heard a car start up. I ran outside and saw my dad had unlocked the door and Mom was starting up the car, which irritated me to no end. So, I couldn't go outside because it wouldn’t be safe for us but Dad could go because something or another. My mom was forced to calm me down and explain that she and Dad could still go to work because adults tended to be safer from the infection than teenagers. She then kissed me on the head and said to stay safe in here, which I begrudgingly promised to do. Once my parents were gone, however, I had other plans. While my parents were getting ready to leave, I had discovered that Dad had forgotten to the lock the door. A noticeable flaw, especially if you were in a horror movie (then again, if you had to choose from being murdered from a slasher like character or be naked and kidnapped by a tentacle monster, you’d probably choose the former as well). Sensing a great opportunity, I used my stealth skills again and sneaked out the house as quietly and as quickly as possible. Once I was out, I ran. And I ran as fast as my legs would even consider carrying to Lacey’s house (Sorry what house? No, it’s more like a mansion) and frantically knocked on the door hoping someone would answer. This desperate hoping that Lacey wasn’t dead was only exasperated further as my iPhone’s notification bell blared out and showcased me the most haunting text I had ever seen. As it turned out, the Lacey problem had grown even worse in the day that followed and now practically the entire school body and even a few teachers and other various adults had been infected with a piece of Lacey on them. With even more velocity and intensity than before, I banged the door, pleading for someone, anyone to answer. Apparently, I didn’t need an answer after all, as the door simply opened for me. While walking into the two story mansion, I saw that the entire first floor had been left desolate, seemingly abandoned from the presence. The furniture was still there, most of it at least, but there was almost no signs of life outside of maybe the static of a TV. As I prepared to head up to Lacey’s room, I saw a note written next to the oven and picked it up to read. All it would say to me was this: “Keep good care of Lacey in her last moments, for we will have jumped off the wagon of society by the time she goes on.” That was more than enough evidence to me to suggest that her mom, dad and maybe even her butler had died by their own content just after the diagnosis. In a way, I probably should have seen it coming. Her mom and dad weren’t bad people, and the butler was always here to bake us chocolate chip cookies when we were younger. But above everything else in their life, Lacey was their proudest accomplishment and as such they tended to spoil her often. But there was no time to reminisce or think over the past, I had a mission to get back to and made the march up to Lacey’s bedroom. Once I opened the door, I inspected my surroundings. It seemed like the bedroom had stayed relatively the same outside of the lights being off. And then, I saw Lacey on top of the bed. Eyes closed, and wearing an strapless white floor-length dress that complimented her seemingly hourglass like figure by hugging it in a warm embrace before pooling out from her thighs down to her feet with a skirt. I tried to wake her up, shake her up, even poke her up. But it didn’t look good. It seemed that she was a goner and I was too late. I was about to place my head down on her chest before realizing what this would do to me and started to grieve the loss of all those who seemed destined to become like her forever more… And then, I heard a beat. A slow beat. The slow beat you hear from… The heart! So basically Lacey was dead, but she wasn’t DEAD if you get what I'm saying. And I expressed joyous relief when I heard it. Damn the idea that it wasn’t normal for that to happen, anything that showcased life was enough for me. The only question left to answer was how I was going to take her to Fruitland High. And then I remembered something...didn’t Vivienne and Sherri wear gloves during her last day at school? Why not do the same thing? It was worth a shot, so I went into Lacey’s clothing closet hoping for the best. And in the vast array of shirts, tank tops, shorts, skirts and dresses I saw the glove department and picked the very first pair of gloves I saw. They weren’t that special, just your regular pair of opera gloves but I figured they’d work enough. I put the two gloves on, fitting very well despite them being very uncomfortable for my hands. It was then I figured that my plan would probably work better if I had disguised myself, so I did just that, transforming myself from one of the nerds to a so-called ‘swag-sensation’ who had some sort of popularity amongst his school (I even gotta wear her infamous shades!). I got out of the closet and gently placed the hand with the glove on Lacey’s stomach, waiting to see if it would do anything. No dice, which meant I could carry on with the plan. I then placed my right hand below the back of Lacey, between the waist and the chest and lifted her up from the bed like my hand was one of those bulldozers. Once that was done, I moved to the other side softly and gently holding Lacey’s cold, lifeless hands. For the final time in her life, she was to be out of her bed and into the real world. As her body teetered to and fro, looking as if she was about to come collapsing down, I quickly got my right hand around her back to keep her steady. It felt awkward, Lacey and I together looking like a couple. But I couldn’t focus on that, I had to hurry to Fruitland High so we could save the world. I began to walk slowly, to ensure that Lacey would not fall down on the first go. While I did, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Here she was, one of the most beautiful and popular girls in her school, THE most beautiful and popular at that, and she was about to become the cause of either saving the world or eternal damnation depending on how this played out. And despite her seemingly extravagant wear, that once poised slow strut of hers, now little more an unconscious trudge and her auburn hair looking frazzled and shedding faster by the hour. Yet she was the one that would determine the fate of the entire world, crazy how those things work out sometimes, don’t they? The next several minutes would be the most painful and tedious I had ever bared witness to in my life. To start with, there was the valiant attempt to ensure Lacey didn’t flat out tumble down the stairs and damaged herself even further. After opening the door and securing herself, I had to walk down and retrace the steps of Fruitland, remembering every little detail the bus took from that part of town to there. And it wasn’t without a few uninfected people giving confused looks or stink eyes over what it was I was doing with her. And let’s not even get into the various cars that almost ran us over; the fact that a lack of sidewalk meant you had to carry her with both hands despite being weak as all, get out, and even a few run-ins with a couple of Lacey zombies. For some reason though, whenever we did see them she would toughen up her muscles a bit and show signs of life. But before it could get really serious, I would run as fast as I could and find a place to hide until they left the distance. It was a terrible endeavor, one I am thankful never to go through again, but eventually I finally made it to Fruitland High… And not a moment too soon. There were hundreds upon hundreds of Lacey clones, all with the same features, same looks, same personalities and different clothes crowding around the flag post of the United States of America. Who was on the very top of the flag post? Valerie and you, looking very petrified and a bit beaten up. Valerie exclaimed to me that the two of you tried to fight them off, but as the numbers grew, things only got worse. She said that I was the only hope for this town left and that I needed to leave Lacey here. Now seeing as I had already come this far, I wasn’t planning on just taking off and walking away just like that. But after hearing Valerie call me a nit-wit in a frustrated tone, I all but needed to leave her be. By that point, some of the Lacey zombies had started to climb up the flag post in the hopes that they would corner you and my girlfriend. It was already looking very bleak as it was, but things could not have been anymore bleak than they were at this moment. And then it happened again. The same thing I saw while I was taking her to school. Her muscles tightened and her hands clenched up like two fists. Almost as if they were being watched by someone, the other Laceys stopped everything they were doing and took a deep look into their accidental creator. For the first time, it what seemed like forever, Lacey opened up her eyes. Only it wasn't her eyes at all, instead being two gaping black holes. Nobody knew why they were like this, but then again, nobody thought we would ever be in this situation. And then, slowly and surely, came an squeal that squeaked hard and long, starting quietly but eventually becoming almost unbearable in terms of pitch or in volume. The ground shook as this happened, and the wind pointed in the direction of her. By that time, the Laceys that had gotten onto the flag post and had tried to hold on had fallen inside Lacey's nonexistent mouth. Out of existence, out of sight. All hell would break loose for the rest of the Laceys as they tried to do the same thing the others thought would work and save themselves by climbing to the flag post. And like those before them, they too would lose their grip and fall inside the mouth of Lacey, never to be seen again. This ear-splitting endeavor would continue until every last Lacey zombie there was had been ejected from our world for good. Having ducked and covered my ears, seeing Lacey stop this made me breathe a sigh of relief. You and Valerie slowly slid down the flag pole, in great awe at what had occurred. For everything she had done to me or Valerie over the years, it was very impressive to see that in her final minutes that she would save us all from death. And yet, something told me that maybe, just maybe, this was not yet over. That perhaps there was some sort of catch to this whole thing and they just hadn't seen it yet. And that there was. Moments after the three of us looked at Lacey (whose eyes and mouth had closed down again), she snapped her neck onto the right side and began to shake, growing more volatile as the seconds passed on. In a frantic rush, we all ran inside the main school building and ducked away from whatever was about to happen. What came about next would only be described as such: a blinding nuclear white that took away all the other colors came outside as a monstrous boom could be heard. The boom you only hear from an atomic bomb, but perhaps louder. Eventually, the white light would subside and give us a green light to head out to see the damages. As you led the way, we noticed that nothing had been damaged. In fact, Lacey wasn't even there anymore. No footprints, no smoke, no dust, nothing. It was almost as if she never existed. The other thing we saw? A bunch of people, teachers, students, parents, adults, anyone really, that were victims of Lacey's disease and extremely confused over what had just happened. Even Vivienne and Sherri, Lacey's most ardent friends were baffled over everything that occurred. I almost wanted to tell them what had happened, but you said that it wouldn't serve any purpose and that they would eventually find out for themselves. And that was it: the next day, everything went back to normal. Almost as if the events that followed them never came to be. The one slight difference was that Vivienne was now the new queen bee of Fruitland High, which wasn't that much of a downgrade from Lacey; she always did have that French charm and appeal to hers that dazzled the jocks of the school. And as for me? Well, I've just about finished this homework assignment. I know it's been a long read, but I guess that tends to happen in times like this. Maybe one day when I'm older I'll look back and revisit this whole endeavor so I can rewrite it into a novel or a comic. But hopefully, that won't be anytime soon. As Stephen wrote the final words to his story, he looked at all of his papers and smiled a bit over what may had been his greatest achievement in terms of academics yet. This would not last for long as his mother would soon call him over to dinner, he happily acquiesced, bringing his homework papers with him in the process. But before this story can finally head to it's resting place, there is likely one question you're still wondering about: Who was the teacher that accompanied Stephen and Valerie during all of this and why did he know so much about this disease? Well, the answer is not as far or as obvious as you may think it is, because the person in question, the 'you' Stephen had referred to had seen all of this happen once before in his life when he was a younger man. A young man who had a good fishing partner to guide him and love him. But that's for another day. And as Stephen said, hopefully it is not a day that comes anytime soon, or even for a long time to come. Category:Weird